A princess of Mars
command to halt, following with a shot as I paid no attention to his
hail. Kantos Kan dropped quickly into the darkness, while I rose
steadily and at terrific speed raced through the Martian sky followed
by a dozen of the air-scout craft which had joined the pursuit, and
later by a swift cruiser carrying a hundred men and a battery of
rapid-fire guns. By twisting and turning my little machine, now rising
and now falling, I managed to elude their search-lights most of the
time, but I was also losing ground by these tactics, and so I decided
to hazard everything on a straight-away course and leave the result to
fate and the speed of my machine.
Kantos Kan had shown me a trick of gearing, which is known only to the
navy of Helium, that greatly increased the speed of our machines, so
that I felt sure I could distance my pursuers if I could dodge their
projectiles for a few moments.
As I sped through the air the screeching of the bullets around me
convinced me that only by a miracle could I escape, but the die was
cast, and throwing on full speed I raced a straight course toward
Helium. Gradually I left my pursuers further and further behind, and I
was just congratulating myself on my lucky escape, when a well-directed
shot from the cruiser exploded at the prow of my little craft. The
concussion nearly capsized her, and with a sickening plunge she hurtled
downward through the dark night.
How far I fell before I regained control of the plane I do not know,
but I must have been very close to the ground when I started to rise
again, as I plainly heard the squealing of animals below me. Rising
again I scanned the heavens for my pursuers, and finally making out
their lights far behind me, saw that they were landing, evidently in
search of me.
Not until their lights were no longer discernible did I venture to
flash my little lamp upon my compass, and then I found to my
consternation that a fragment of the projectile had utterly destroyed
my only guide, as well as my speedometer. It was true I could follow
the stars in the general direction of Helium, but without knowing the
exact location of the city or the speed at which I was traveling my
chances for finding it were slim.
Helium lies a thousand miles southwest of Zodanga, and with my compass
intact I should have made the trip, barring accidents, in between four
and five hours. As it turned out, however, morning found me speeding
over a vast expanse of dead sea bottom after nearly six hours of
continuous flight at high speed. Presently a great city showed below
me, but it was not Helium, as that alone of all Barsoomian metropolises
consists in two immense circular walled cities about seventy-five miles
apart and would have been easily distinguishable from the altitude at
which I was flying.
Believing that I had come too far to the north and west, I turned back
in a southeasterly direction, passing during the forenoon several other
large cities, but none resembling the description which Kantos Kan had
given me of Helium. In addition to the twin-city formation of Helium,
another distinguishing feature is the two immense towers, one of vivid
scarlet rising nearly a mile into the air from the center of one of the
cities, while the other, of bright yellow and of the same height, marks
her sister.
CHAPTER XXIV
TARS TARKAS FINDS A FRIEND
About noon I passed low over a great dead city of ancient Mars, and as
I skimmed out across the plain beyond I came full upon several thousand
green warriors engaged in a terrific battle. Scarcely had I seen them
than a volley of shots was directed at me, and with the almost
unfailing accuracy of their aim my little craft was instantly a ruined
wreck, sinking erratically to the ground.
I fell almost directly in the center of the fierce combat, among
warriors who had not seen my approach so busily were they engaged in
life and death struggles. The men were fighting on foot with
long-swords, while an occasional shot from a sharpshooter on the
outskirts of the conflict would bring down a warrior who might for an
instant separate himself from the entangled mass.
As my machine sank among them I realized that it was fight or die, with
good chances of dying in any event, and so I struck the ground with
drawn long-sword ready to defend myself as I could.
I fell beside a huge monster who was engaged with three antagonists,
and as I glanced at his fierce face, filled with the light of battle, I
recognized Tars Tarkas the Thark. He did not see me, as I was a trifle
behind him, and just then the three warriors opposing him, and whom I
recognized as Warhoons, charged simultaneously. The mighty fellow made
quick work of one of them, but in stepping back for another thrust he
fell over a dead body behind him and was down and at the mercy of his
foes in an instant. Quick as lightning they were upon him, and Tars
Tarkas would have been gathered to his fathers in short order had I not
sprung before his prostrate form and engaged his adversaries. I had
accounted for one of them when the mighty Thark regained his feet and
quickly settled the other.
He gave me one look, and a slight smile touched his grim lip as,
touching my shoulder, he said,
“I would scarcely recognize you, John Carter, but there is no other
mortal upon Barsoom who would have done what you have for me. I think I
have learned that there is such a thing as friendship, my friend.”
He said no more, nor was there opportunity, for the Warhoons were
closing in about us, and together we fought, shoulder to shoulder,
during all that long, hot afternoon, until the tide of battle turned
and the remnant of the fierce Warhoon horde fell back upon their
thoats, and fled into the gathering darkness.
Ten thousand men had been engaged in that titanic struggle, and upon
the field of battle lay three thousand dead. Neither side asked or gave
quarter, nor did they attempt to take prisoners.
On our return to the city after the battle we had gone directly to Tars
Tarkas’ quarters, where I was left alone while the chieftain attended
the customary council which immediately follows an engagement.
As I sat awaiting the return of the green warrior I heard something
move in an adjoining apartment, and as I glanced up there rushed
suddenly upon me a huge and hideous creature which bore me backward
upon the pile of silks and furs upon which I had been reclining. It was
Woola—faithful, loving Woola. He had found his way back to Thark and,
as Tars Tarkas later told me, had gone immediately to my former
quarters where he had taken up his pathetic and seemingly hopeless
watch for my return.
“Tal Hajus knows that you are here, John Carter,” said Tars Tarkas, on
his return from the jeddak’s quarters; “Sarkoja saw and recognized you
as we were returning. Tal Hajus has ordered me to bring you before him
tonight. I have ten thoats, John Carter; you may take your choice from
among them, and I will accompany you to the nearest waterway that leads
to Helium. Tars Tarkas may be a cruel green warrior, but he can be a
friend as well. Come, we must start.”
“And when you return, Tars Tarkas?” I asked.
“The wild calots, possibly, or worse,” he replied. “Unless I should
chance to have the opportunity I have so long waited of battling with
Tal Hajus.”
“We will stay, Tars Tarkas, and see Tal Hajus tonight. You shall not
sacrifice yourself, and it may be that tonight you can have the chance
you wait.”
He objected strenuously, saying that Tal Hajus often flew into wild
fits of passion at the mere thought of the blow I had dealt him, and
that if ever he laid his hands upon me I would be subjected to the most
horrible tortures.
While we were eating I repeated to Tars Tarkas the story which Sola had
told me that night upon the sea bottom during the march to Thark.
He said but little, but the great muscles of his face worked in passion
and in agony at recollection of the horrors which had been heaped upon
the only thing he had ever loved in all his cold, cruel, terrible
existence.
He no longer demurred when I suggested that we go before Tal Hajus,
only saying that he would like to speak to Sarkoja first. At his
request I accompanied him to her quarters, and the look of venomous
hatred she cast upon me was almost adequate recompense for any future
misfortunes this accidental return to Thark might bring me.
“Sarkoja,” said Tars Tarkas, “forty years ago you were instrumental in
bringing about the torture and death of a woman named Gozava. I have
just discovered that the warrior who loved that woman has learned of
your part in the transaction. He may not kill you, Sarkoja, it is not
our custom, but there is nothing to prevent him tying one end of a
strap about your neck and the other end to a wild thoat, merely to test
your fitness to survive and help perpetuate our race. Having heard that
he would do this on the morrow, I thought it only right to warn you,
for I am a just man. The river Iss is but a short pilgrimage, Sarkoja.
Come, John Carter.”
The next morning Sarkoja was gone, nor was she ever seen after.
In silence we hastened to the jeddak’s palace, where we were
immediately admitted to his presence; in fact, he could scarcely wait
to see me and was standing erect upon his platform glowering at the
entrance as I came in.
“Strap him to that pillar,” he shrieked. “We shall see who it is dares
strike the mighty Tal Hajus. Heat the irons; with my own hands I shall
burn the eyes from his head that he may not pollute my person with his
vile gaze.”
“Chieftains of Thark,” I cried, turning to the assembled council and
ignoring Tal Hajus, “I have been a chief among you, and today I have
fought for Thark shoulder to shoulder with her greatest warrior. You
owe me, at least, a hearing. I have won that much today. You claim to
be a just people—”
“Silence,” roared Tal Hajus. “Gag the creature and bind him as I
command.”
“Justice, Tal Hajus,” exclaimed Lorquas Ptomel. “Who are you to set
aside the customs of ages among the Tharks.”
“Yes, justice!” echoed a dozen voices, and so, while Tal Hajus fumed
and frothed, I continued.
“You are a brave people and you love bravery, but where was your mighty
jeddak during the fighting today? I did not see him in the thick of
battle; he was not there. He rends defenseless women and little
children in his lair, but how recently has one of you seen him fight
with men? Why, even I, a midget beside him, felled him with a single
blow of my fist. Is it of such that the Tharks fashion their jeddaks?
There stands beside me now a great Thark, a mighty warrior and a noble
man. Chieftains, how sounds, Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark?”
A roar of deep-toned applause greeted this suggestion.
“It but remains for this council to command, and Tal Hajus must prove
his fitness to rule. Were he a brave man he would invite Tars Tarkas to
combat, for he does not love him, but Tal Hajus is afraid; Tal Hajus,
your jeddak, is a coward. With my bare hands I could kill him, and he
knows it.”
After I ceased there was tense silence, as all eyes were riveted upon
Tal Hajus. He did not speak or move, but the blotchy green of his
countenance turned livid, and the froth froze upon his lips.
“Tal Hajus,” said Lorquas Ptomel in a cold, hard voice, “never in my
long life have I seen a jeddak of the Tharks so humiliated. There could
be but one answer to this arraignment. We wait it.” And still Tal Hajus
stood as though petrified.
“Chieftains,” continued Lorquas Ptomel, “shall the jeddak, Tal Hajus,
prove his fitness to rule over Tars Tarkas?”
There were twenty chieftains about the rostrum, and twenty swords
flashed high in assent.
There was no alternative. That decree was final, and so Tal Hajus drew
his long-sword and advanced to meet Tars Tarkas.